


Enough

by CarolinesEcho (shopgirl152)



Series: Deep Desires [1]
Category: Alice Isn't Dead (Podcast)
Genre: Dreams, F/F, Hypnopompic, Life on the Road, One Shot, Short One Shot, Slice of Life, State of Consciouness, Stream of Consciousness, between sleeping and waking, conscious thought, dreamstate, self awareness, slowly waking up, truck driver
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-28 16:49:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17186729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shopgirl152/pseuds/CarolinesEcho
Summary: For one brief moment...I lived. And that was enough.





	Enough

**Author's Note:**

> Hypnopompic: The transition between being asleep and waking up. You can read more about it here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hypnopompic
> 
> Inspired by an actual dream/between sleep and awake experience I had several weeks ago.

I’m standing in the room talking to my Dad. It’s been years since I’ve seen him. We finish our conversation and he walks away. I shrug, accept the conversation is over and turn around, walking up two small steps to another room.

I walk over to the shelf, pulling out DVDs. I look for a movie to watch. I’m not sure what movie I’m looking for, exactly. Maybe something Alice might like. I pull out a rom-com and put it back, glancing down the hallway. No sign of Alice. She’s probably asleep. Or in bed checking her e-mail.

Typical.

I smile and shake my head, turning back to the waiting movies. Maybe—

“Hey.” Alice walks behind me and I give a distracted hey back, watching as she studies the movies to the right of me. She’s eying the Disney movies.

“You know where the good stuff is,” I say.

She chuckles, a soft low rumble. “Yeah.”

I look over and notice what she's wearing. Slippers. Dark green pajama pants with a tartan pattern. A soft looking sweatshirt. Her hair mussed and tousled from sleeping.

“What?” she asks.

I reach a hand out, tucking a loose strand of wild hair behind her ear. “Your hair and my heart all a mess in the morning.”

“Where’d you hear that?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Some song on the radio somewhere.”

“It’s nice.”

I feel a change. Like an increased awareness I can’t quite put my finger on. It’s like—it’s like I’m drifting away from a perceived memory that never happened. Was Alice really here? If she’s not here...where is she?

Things slowly come into focus. I’m lying on something soft, but I’m not scared. I’m comfortable...relaxed. Peaceful. It’s cold.

_Why is it cold?_

I'm sleeping. I don't know how I know this. I'm aware of being asleep and yet awake at the same time. I'm on my back. Eyes closed. Breathing steady. Drifting through streams of consciousness. Anxiety can't find me here.

 _How is this possible?_ I wonder. _How long can I stay here? How long can I exist in this state? Free from cares and worry?_

My eyes flutter open. I’m staring up at the ceiling. The same ceiling I wake up to day after day, the same cold grey metal of a semi truck. I get up and stretch, blearily checking my map for the next stop on my route.

It’s early. If I start now, I can earn more money. Because miles turn into pennies, turn into dollars, turn into...well, you know.

I’m cargo again. Static. Existing instead of living. Inhuman.

But for one brief moment, in that state between sleep and awake, I was human again. I had a Father again. I had a life and a home. I had a wife again.

For one brief moment...I lived.

And that’s enough.

**Author's Note:**

> The line "your hair and my heart all a mess in the morning" is from a song by the band Old Dominion called Still Writing Songs About You.


End file.
